


i won't sleep

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternative Universe - Doctors, Ex-Girlfriends, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7921777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in an elevator with your ex-girlfriend is, like, maybe not the... greatest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i won't sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what this is, you guys. But I have a brand new computer and I guess, well, it's only appropriate if I christen this with a Doctor!AU and taengsic, of course.
> 
> Maybe I'll play with the universe some more? We'll see.

-

 

 

It was going to end. Jessica is way too pragmatic to not know: it was going to end because at some point, life stops feeling like a beginning. She still carries this around with her; less of a thought, more of a theory.

The Saturday before she leaves for the States, Kim Taeyeon breaks up with her. She smelled like beer, barbecue, and summer, mostly summer, the high sun and the beach salt that stays sticking to her skin. In a week, she will write her first hit song and it’s going to take Jessica five years to listen.

It’s a lot. “I’m sorry,” Taeyeon said. Never looked at her either. “It’s best, you know? Maybe even for both of us,” she added, sardonic smile pressed into her mouth.

Jessica didn’t have an answer for that.

 

 

 

 

 

Rounds end around nine. She’s been back in Seoul for two years; it’s still weird to get used to. 

“Mom wants you to go on a blind date,” her sister teases on the phone, and Jessica rolls her eyes, passing her files to a nurse on her way to her office. “She says that it’s about time that you go and, you know, settle or whatever. Kids! I want nieces and nephews too.”

Jessica snorts. “You’re enough for me.”

Emergency medicine was an accident. Jessica should have been a gynecologist or a plastic surgeon. Easy money, Soojung always teases. But there’s something to the rush, fast paced enough to keep her interested, and, she thinks, as much as it’s painful to admit, she likes people. Or sort of likes people – it depends. 

But she’s also ambitious enough to do well, really well, and rising in the ranks was something she was determined to do, circling back home and being near her parents and sister came like a happy accident, benefit as a result too.

“Tell mom that I’ll go on a blind date if it makes her happy,” she says dryly, “but I get to name my conditions too.”

“She’ll never go for that.”

Jessica laughs. “Then –”

“The two of you are too much,” Soojung replies and Jessica can practically hear her roll her eyes with amusement. They say goodbye though, Jessica navigating through the hallways with an escape plan. Maybe she’ll get a couple of hours of sleep in; there’s paperwork first, maybe a meeting in the morning that she can’t avoid. She plays around with vacation time in her head and then stops. Realistically, she’s not into vacations like that.

At the elevator, a small crowd of people gathers. Some are in gowns and tuxedos. She’s forgotten that there’s a benefit at the hospital tonight. She usually (strategically) is scheduled for on-call time. Call it what you will. Still, she manages to tuck herself into the elevator behind a flurry of other doctors and benefactors, most nodding at her because they do know who she is. Closing her eyes, she leans against the elevator wall. It smells expensive; her scrubs are digging into the back of her knees and sweat is still gathered under her hair. A bus accident and a homicide, she reminds herself. And one by one, people start to filter off the elevator, to the main two levels, fast enough for Jessica to forget that she was supposed to get off somewhere around there, accidentally heading up to the third.

“Sooyeon?”

A variation on her given name: not many people call her _sooyeon_ outside of her parents, barely her sister, and maybe a few, select colleagues. Instead of panicking, her eyes open slowly and she greets the third floor, not the second, and then the fifth floor and the VIP area on its way to the roof.

There’s a violent jolt then. The elevator shudders and then there’s a hand, wrapped into her elbow, holding her as she grips the railing tightly. Her heart shifts into her throat.

“You’re alright,” says the voice, and it’s the strange, subtle smell of perfume that sends her off-kilter, her fingers trembling as she blinks and meets the gaze of her company.

“Kim Taeyeon,” she says and her voice is steadier than it should be. This is the truth.

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty minutes in, and they both agree that they’re stuck, sending various, aggressive texts to people from their cellphones (“ _Save_ your battery,” Jessica snaps) until they both realize that there’s an actual emergency button, in the actual elevator, and this isn’t a movie and they are so not going to die.

Taeyeon is leaning against one corner, Jessica the other, but her legs are not as wobbly. It’s weird, looking at her ex-girlfriend, looking at her in a way that is one part nostalgic, mostly fascination, and everything else in between. There’s a panic, without a doubt, that unsteadies the beat of her heart, leading it back and forth from her throat to her ears, making Jessica question her sanity because they are getting close to _nearly ten years_ or something crazy like that. She manages to look at her though, drag her eyes from her legs, to the fabric of her dress, beaded and silk and weird because Taeyeon had always been sort of rough, to her face, to the gaze that she sort of wears when Jessica talks herself into being an adult and meeting her gaze.

“Are they going to come?”

Jessica shrugs. “Eventually.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Taeyeon presses. They are further apart now; Jessica slides to sit on the elevator. She’s worked sixteen straight hours and there isn’t coffee to save her.

“Not really,” she answers, and it’s really that she’s been trained to not panic. Taeyeon looks at her, mystified. “This is one of the main elevators,” she adds. “We called, spoke to security, and, well, they’ll figure it out… at least we have cellphone service?”

“At least.” Taeyeon is dry.

Jessica isn’t delicate; she’s off the clock. “So,” she says, “you’re just stuck with me – if we’re going to be awkward, let me know so that I can take a nap and save myself –”

“We won’t be awkward.”

Taeyeon is quick to reply. Sort of looks at her earnestly. Jessica swallows and looks away, rubbing her eyes. She’s too tired for this, she tells herself. “Says you,” she mutters.

This is only the first hour. She’s trapped.

 

 

 

 

 

If she were a terrible person, she would say things like: “This should be your next song – trapped in an elevator with your ex!” or “Hey, it’s been awhile… was that first song about me?” because these are things that happen in dramas, right up to the end, and she hasn’t been in love like this for a really, really long time. It’s more than sort of weird, remembering that kind of time.

Things she notices: Tayeon is beautiful, weirdly nostalgic – that kind of beautiful – where sitting in a corner, further away from her, makes her think of all the times where Jessica thought about losing her, knowing that they both existed on opposite ends of the spectrum and maybe, in the end, it was the universe telling them that they were going to be doomed from the start.

“I always thought I was going to see you like this.”

Tayeon says this around what feels like _hour two_ and they’ve talked nothing but getting out of the elevator, the weather, and maybe a little about the benefit – support the kids, or something to that effect. Jessica opens her eyes and she watches Taeyeon stretch her legs out, walking her fingers over her thighs and smoothing down the silk of her dress. She’s uncomfortable; it wrinkles into the lines of her mouth.

“In an elevator?”

Taeyeon laughs. “You know what I mean.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Jessica half-snaps, nearly glaring. “I stopped reading minds when I graduated university.” Taeyeon looks down and guilty. Jessica ignores the tightness in her throat. “We’re trapped,” she mutters too. “It’s making me a little crazy as it is.”

Taeyeon sighs. It’s awhile before she answers; Jessica can guess where her brain goes. The other woman has always hated silences, odd, she thinks, for someone who is remembered to love solitude more.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyeon says. “I’m just –”

“I’m sweaty,” she replies, sharply, and Jessica rubs her eyes. “I haven’t slept yet – and is this supposed to make me feel better? Or is this you writing a song about me again?”

Tayeon laughs breathlessly. Nervously, maybe. “No.”

“Liar.” Jessica means it.

“I try to keep it to real life.” Taeyeon says this, but Jessica doesn’t even know how to begin to handle that – what does it mean, should it mean anything, and why is this weird, ridiculously weird when it’s always been a reunion that has lived in the back of her head as an afterthought. It’s not a secret, but it’s how she lives. “I know,” Taeyeon jumps in, “it sounds stupid, weird I guess, but… it was a moment for me that I didn’t want to let myself forget.”

Jessica groans. Her fingers press against the bridge of her nose. “Good for you.” Her mouth thins and she shakes her head. “Good for you for having all the answers.”

“I’m not trying to undercut anything,” Taeyeon murmurs.

“Is that what you’re calling it?”

“That’s not fair.”

Jessica’s eyes are wavering. She’s tired, she tells herself. She could say things like: “I got drunk once, listened to your song, and cried so hard for days – all because these were things you could have actually said to me –” and it’s a moment in time that she’s not particularly proud of, the assertion of space and time and all things that she never got to say because what do you say back to _we can’t do this anymore_.

“Then what is?” she asks, dragging her knees to rest against her chest. “Me yelling? Screaming? Telling you that you ruined my life? I don’t know what you want me to say.” She sighs. “I’m probably not going to give you what you want – and that shouldn’t surprise you.”

It’s a flashback, a subtle one, and Jessica closes her eyes again. Her hands curl into fists and she presses them into her eyes, feeling a headache crawl out from the end of the day. At her hip, her phone is shuddering.

“Must be nice,” she says. “Being able to say you’ve moved on when you wanted to.”

It feels a little heavy as it is.

 

 

 

 

 

When she graduated, she thought: “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” It’s a little hard to swallow, considering she was supposed to be the one that did; it was Soojung that came out of it though, right into school, right out into the world, secret genius and what have you. In the middle of this, for her, there was Taeyeon, there were kisses that tasted like air and _breathing_ and everything that made her heart panic, but sense, the only thing that really made sense to her, in a laundry list of choices that she was supposed to make.

She thought: “She’s going to be here, right?”

And maybe this was part of growing up.

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m happy for you,” she says finally, maybe more to herself, and they’ve just finished talking to elevator technician. Taeyeon has talked to her manager, a manager – she doesn’t even care how it works. Jessica trains her gaze back onto the other woman. “Really,” she manages, shrugging. “We would have been terrible together.”

Taeyeon laughs a little. The sound comes from her throat. Jessica watches as her fingers wrap into her skin, rubbing lightly as she shifts to face her.

“Probably,” Taeyeon agrees. “But then again…” She trails off and Jessica waits, the corners of her mouth flickering. “I just –” Taeyeon sighs, losing momentum, “It doesn’t matter.”

Jessica snorts, pushing herself to stand. She stretches her arms out over her head and there’s a sharp crack, her posture relaxing. Above her head, she hears a shout and breathes a little. The space is getting smaller and she’s trying not to think about it.

“Don’t do that,” she says, shifts her weight, then meeting Taeyeon’s gaze head on, “don’t – if you go to that place, the would have, maybe I _could_ have, it’s going to get ugly and I really, really, really don’t have the energy to tell you how long it took me to get over you, how _pissed_ I was when I figured out you wrote a song about me –” She pauses, watching Taeyeon gear up for a denial. She shakes her head. “And don’t tell me otherwise because _yah_ , the lyric is literally something like…” and out of nowhere, her voice shifts and changes, the low, husky tone of a rusty singing voice breaking through as she says-sings, “I went to the beach to fall asleep holding your hand, but I woke up and you were gone and that was the memory of the end.”

It’s suddenly apt, Taeyeon sitting on the ground, Jessica standing, and she’s angry, maybe more tired than angry, but the memories are startling, how they come back and there is Taeyeon’s voice in her head saying things like _you’re good enough, of course you’re good enough_ and smiling sadly because she walked into that day knowing that it was the end. And maybe Jessica’s angry because she could have been in love with her, maybe that was going to be the day that she decided she was in love with her, but breaking up took that chance away from her and it was going to be a choice that was going to be her own.

Jessica looks away, pulling her hair loose. It falls and weighs along her face and shoulders, hiding her expression from the other woman. “It must be nice,” she’s tired and shows now, “that you got to say goodbye your way and I was stuck wondering, maybe still wondering what I could have said or done or even agreed to –”

“I didn’t want you to hold onto that.”

It’s too sudden for her to react. The elevator jerks and Jessica stumbles, head echoing with a screech as Taeyeon calls her name and half-catches her by the wrists. Her knees are throbbing and vaguely, she’s aware of someone calling out for them above their heads.

Taeyeon’s fingers are way too gentle. “ – We’re fine!” She calls out, shuffling to the floor with Jessica. “We’ll sit!”

“You should let go of me,” Jessica murmurs.

“Not until you tell me you’re okay,” Taeyeon shoots back, almost sharply, and her fingers tighten around Jessica’s wrists, tugging her into a sitting position. They sit, knee to knee, and Taeyeon turns Jessica’s palms over her. Her skin is flushed and Jessica sighs. “Are you hurt?”

“My pride,” Jessica mutters. She flushes, realizing she’s said it out loud too.

Taeyeon laughs a little. “Sorry.” But she isn’t; Jessica knows that much.

“I’m just tired.”

Taeyeon’s grip loosens around her wrists and then, slowly, she starts to draw back. Jessica looks up, just watch her, just watch her – she tells herself, but ends up drawing herself closer, her mouth dry and taunt, maybe a little spiteful, as she leans in and just kisses her. Nothing else matters: she is going to blame herself, blame Taeyeon, blame the fact that her mouth tastes like coffee, Taeyeon tastes like wine, and goddamnit she is going to have to work several more hours to try and pretend to forget all of this. It’s not simple: Taeyeon tastes like Taeyeon, like every bit of memory Jessica has kept about Taeyeon, beach kisses, soft and hard, all winding contradictions that she’s never really been complacent enough to understand.

What she knows: Taeyeon’s hands are small in her hair, they pull, pull harder, and her tongue is rolling into Jessica’s mouth, sweeping back and pressing into her throat, there’s a mumble, there’s sigh, there’s _we can’t do this_ but they are and Jessica stops thinking all together –

That it happens.

 

 

 

 

Eventually it’s like the universe decides to get together; Taeyeon is helped out of the elevator first, aware of her dress, aware that someone in the hospital is probably going to be an ass and take some kind of photo to plaster all over the Internet to say that she was trapped in an elevator for five hours and it was probably really boring, especially since Jessica follows not a minute later, climbing out of her own abilities, hair settled back into a neat ponytail, a sharp, amused grin because _hey she’s a doctor_.

“Gotta stop meeting like this, doc,” greets an EMT, one of the pretty ones – bright-eyed and Jessica remembers her name is Irene. Irene brought her coffee once. “At least let me buy you dinner,” she says too.

Jessica laughs, sliding back into her white coat. “My hours are terrible.”

“That’s nice, so are mine,” Irene teases, throwing her a towel and Jessica rolls her eyes, almost gratefully, dabbing some sweat and elevator oil away. Irene tugs gently at her ponytail. “I’ll buy you breakfast next time.”

And that’s that, Irene walking away with a wild smile and a wave, leaving Jessica to shake her head and smile, maybe wistfully, maybe more if she didn’t still know that Taeyeon was standing behind her, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her manager whispering to her as she watches her openly.

There’s a tap on her shoulder. Jessica turns, facing the man.

“Thanks,” he says. Smiles too. Jessica eyes him warily. Over his shoulder, Taeyeon is turned to the side, gripping her phone and whispering into it. “Let me grab your contact info if I can? Taeyeon-ssi would like to send a thank you or something…”

“We didn’t die.” Jessica shakes her head. She softens the reply though. “Enclosed spaces are the worst… I’m glad she’s okay,” she says, and her mouth is starting to burn a little, heavy and dry.

“Your number then?”

It’s then that Taeyeon turns, a little, just a little to face her and in mid-reply too. Jessica meets her gaze and her mouth tightens and falls, her arms crossing in front of her chest. She knows that the phone is hovering, that the manager is going to stand there and wait for her reply because this is what he is paid to do.

“No.”

This is the part where she could say something like: _we’re old friends_. Two parts truth, equal parts a lie. She rubs the back of her neck, smiling a little.

“Taeyeon-ssi knows where to find me,” she says, means it, but doesn’t add onto anything else.

Jessica knows how to walk away.


End file.
